The Cry Of The Hidden Flame Poem by Mystic Qalandar

My heart beats wild—untamed, unbound,
A tempest within, a secret sound.
It thunders deep where shadows hide,
Unveiling truths no mask can bide.

A radiant glow of hidden fire,
Lifts me upward, stirs desire.
Were these high vaults—for me alone?
Or gifts of heaven to all made known?

They press me still, unwavering, keen,
Imprinting my soul in colors unseen.
Like divers robed in weighted grace,
They plunge for pearls no time can erase.

Yet fervor alone meets iron doors,
Where patient strength the key implores.
No phantom word, no fleeting guise,
Can blind the soul that loves the skies.

O Watcher of depths, O Keeper of flame,
You weave the stars, You call by name.
Grant unto me what eyes conceal,
The golden mysteries none may steal.

Pierce through my night, refine my mold,
Unfurl the script the ages hold.
Lead me where silence crowns the air,
Where few have trod, yet You are there.

Break these hands from grasping clay,
Teach them to rise, to seek, to pray.
Unveil the fire, the pearl, the breath—
Love triumphant in life and death.